The train rattled softly along the tracks, the hum of conversation and the occasional whistle breaking through the quiet shuffle of travelers settling into their compartments. You glanced down the corridor, hoping for some reprieve from the crowded cabins behind you. Your fingers tightened around the handle of your luggage as your gaze landed on one of the only empty seats left—a window-side spot across from a dark-haired man buried in a book.

Steeling yourself, you slid the door open.

“Sorry,” you began, stepping inside. “The other compartments were full. Do you mind if I—?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, warm but assessing, framed by striking features and dark curls. He closed his book with an audible snap.

“Good morning, miss,” he said smoothly, his voice deep but laced with an almost mischievous undertone.

You hesitated, your brow furrowing. Something about him felt out of place—his demeanor, his confidence. “Are you a new transfer student?” you asked.

The corners of his lips lifted slightly, as though amused. “A student?” he echoed. “No. I am your new professor.”

Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help but give him another once-over. “Are you sure?” you asked, skeptical but not unkind. “You certainly look young... professor.”

That faint smirk deepened into something more genuine. “I am flattered,” he replied, leaning back against his seat.

You sat down slowly, trying to shake the feeling of surprise as you settled into the seat across from him. How could he be so handsome?

The train carried on, the scenery blurring past the window, and you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like him ended up as a professor—and what, exactly, the rest of the semester would hold.